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Olduns and younguns - Blather. Rants. Repeat.
A Møøse once bit my sister ...
Olduns and younguns

Just a couple of work appointments today, but they were sandwiched between two separate vet visits for our youngest and oldest cats.  Nothing life-threatening for either, but neither was just a quick checkup and a rabies shot. Kittehs can has issues....

Zoey (in the userpic) is getting up there, hard though that is to believe. She's already six-plus years old and is heading for eight pounds, which is where both of her kitty sibs have hovered for most of their lives.  She still acts like our little baby and eats voraciously like the little runt she's always been.  She protested severely about having to go, and promptly hid in the corner of the exam room when we got there- as she's always done on these trips.  Mostly, she's fine, but we have two things to watch.  One, we knew- Eleanor noticed a split on one side of her upper lip, which has healed enough for them to stay away from antibiotics today, but which we will need to check on progress (or any lack).  The other was unexpected: Zoey has a heart murmur. Not a bad one, and not at all uncommon in cats of this age, but another thing to watch over time.

The nightcap of the day-night double-vet-ter was taking the old man of the house in:

That's him on the right a few weeks ago, photobombing his sister on National Dog Day.  He's a third of the way through his 17th year, his weight is down to just over 7 pounds, and as I've mentioned here before, he's getting into Assisted Living territory here with his continence.  For a bit over a month, he's had his own catbox in Emily's room, and I shoo him in there before (and often after) both daily feedings to give him less of a journey when nature calls. It's improved things immensely; although he still sometimes misses, it's matters of inches rather than rooms, and most of that is fixable with the puppy pads we have left over from our first (and first-to-go) dog.

I was pleased to learn, though, that other than that one thing which we clearly knew about, and the weight loss that wasn't as bad as we feared, the old guy's doing remarkably well. Lungs are clear, heart sounds good (no murmur), and while he could be exhibiting early signs of arthritis that are impeding his catbox access, his joints aren't showing much if any swelling and his range of motion looked good to the vet.

We could do joint supplements. We could have his teeth cleaned professionally.  But they're not recommending any of that at his age.  Most important to us, with all of these aminals whatever their symptoms, is how IS he or she? And through it all, Tazzer? Is himself. He's strident and loud when he's hungry (and he's just as hungry at the same times as ever), and purry and affectionate whenever he gets attention all the rest of the day when he's awake.  He sometimes grooms or cuddles with, and sometimes gets feisty with, the other two cats, especially if they're invading whatever he perceives as his space- but mostly, he preens and purrs and makes very clear he's happy to be here.  He's still far from the end-days of each of the four we've sent to Rainbow Bridge, each of which, in their own ways, stopped being themselves weeks if not months until we had to make the calls.  We never put any of them through extraordinary measures at the end, and I don't see doing it for him, either. Other than the valet service to the personal catbox, anyway.

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lietya From: lietya Date: September 16th, 2015 12:10 pm (UTC) (Link)
I'm glad the news seems to be mostly reassuring!

If it helps, I provided the litterbox valet service to a perfectly healthy 5-year-old male cat who simply (despite being fixed as a kitten) liked to spray. Turns out that, as I suspected, keeping him light on ammunition cut down on that habit. ;) If that's all your little guy needs, it's not so bad.
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